


Impossible Things

by Star_Fata



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Fata/pseuds/Star_Fata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles about the children of Burgess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Impossible Things

Sophie Bennett grew up remembering impossible things- a hummingbird woman with amethyst eyes, glittering dinosaurs of golden sand marching through the night time, a boy made of frost and mischief, a giant of a man laughing fiercely as he moved from fighting with swords to a snowball fight, and most clearly of all, a large furred paw painting delicate designs on brightly coloured eggs.

The adults, when she attempted to explain these memories, tittered.

"Such an imagination." Her teacher's told her mother.

"Vivid imagination." Her father commented.

"Lost in her imaginary world with no time for the real one." Less complimentary adults muttered.

Jamie however, smiled at her- a soft smile, like snowflakes drifting down in the night- full of wonder and happiness. "I know. What else do you remember?"

Jamie had a bunny drawn in the frost, only to escape the window pane and leap around his room before it burst into snow- and a frosty nip on his nose. He remembers a boy made of frost and mischief and happiness- half shocked and half amazed at being seen by a young mortal boy. He remembers oil slick fearlings driven away by snowballs and scorn- and laughter. He dreams of a gentle smile, mostly fond and a little mischief, and a phrase he's clung to ever since- you don't stop believing in the moon just because the sun comes up, and you don't stop believing in the sun when the clouds block it out.

Sophie's memories are a little hazy regarding that morning- but she's fairly sure that the frost-and-mischief guardian hadn't been quite that poetic about it. Her own memories are fragmentary- a whirl of colour and laughter, and gentle hands guiding her from place to place.

They do their best to keep the wonder of that night- the sheer fantastical quality to it- alive in their memories. They recreate the night in games of make-believe, veering rapidly to become snow bunnies and frost fairies, or whatever else strikes their fancies. Rainy days are spent making Easter eggs out of clay, or drawing sand-creatures, or anything else they can think up.

When they grow up, they stay close, the two Bennetts. They're still friends with all of the other children who were there that night- but as memory fades so does belief, and soon it's apparent that the others just aren't putting in the effort to believe. It saddens them- but they still have each other, and there's no reason to let friendships die just because the others have re-written parts of the past.

They all grow older- but she and Jamie only add more impossible things to their memories. Dreams drifting across darkened skies, fanciful frost patterns on windows and lakes, a booming laugh in the night on Christmas Eve, among other things. They keep these memories close, and make their own mementos to remind them of these incredible times.

They haven't seen the Guardians in years- although they've caught glimpses, every now and then, of a small ocean-coloured fairy fluttering past, gold or ivory in hand. Of dreamsand, flowing like a stream across the sky. Even, on occasion, of a blue and white blur rushing to hide from them in winter time. It's a lot harder to see Bunny- and they only see North in the distance.

It's okay- they still believe anyways. They have all these impossible things- a frost and mischief boy with a shepherd's staff blown by the wind, a snow white goose with a woman rider, a spectral child with a diamond dagger, and a smiling moon shining down.

And they do their best to help the guardians, spreading the belief- among the neighbourhood children they spend their teen years babysitting, the younger cousins and half-siblings that come into their lives through family reunions and custody visits. Perhaps later on, to their own children.

But for the moment, they have no children. So they believe in impossible things- and teach this belief to as many as they can.


	2. A Crafty Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN- This was originally included as two paragraphs about crochet in the previous chapter. I took it out, because they really didn't fit- tone wise or story wise. So, here is a highly edited version. It's part of what I think I'll refer to as The Artistic Bennett's drabbles. I'll try to have the other kids pop up at some point.

It's strange really, just how their interactions with the Guardians have changed the two young Bennett's- and in what ways. When Jack tells them a story, of a blizzard that swept over the town of Tanglewood when he was alive, he tells them of the antics he got up to, trying to keep his sister and their cousins entertained- and how, at one point, he'd cajoled his sister (Little Sister, he called her, his voice wistful) into teaching him to knit- thus, rather than being terrified by the howling wind, she'd been occupied teaching him.

The next day, Jamie had picked up a pair of knitting needles, and learnt to knit. A few years later, he'd seen a crochet hook that reminded him of Jack's staff- so he'd learnt that too. Sophie, ever his loyal sister, had learnt either from him or with him in both cases.

It's something else to do on bad days. The two get quite good at both- although they mostly just dabble to stay in practice, it's enough to get various Christmas presents sorted out over the year.

When Jamie's home-economics teacher decides the class should learn crochet instead of sewing, Jamie gets bored. He already knows how to do a chain after all, so he ignores the pattern the teacher sets out, and the Bennett family end up with dozens of crocheted snowflakes.

Their mother was amused- the teacher was not. Apparently they'd been meant to make a blanket out of Granny Squares. Jamie was unrepentant- she'd only said they needed to make twenty crocheted objects in order to pass. That was barely a lap cozy. And the Snowflakes look so pretty on the Christmas tree, especially next to the little frost sprite Sophie had knitted- the one that bears as distinct resemblance to Jack, if only in terms of colouring.

The elves they'd made look pretty cool too- and they leave one out for North, next to the cookie plate. In the morning, it's gone. They find a thank you note in a fold of wrapping paper while opening their presents.

When Sophie goes to High School a few years later, she acquires the very same Home Economics teacher. The teacher, having learned the value of being specific due to Jamie, orders them to follow the pattern exactly.

Sophie does so, but makes her 'blanket' out of guardian colours- iridescent green for feathers, dusky indigo for fur, glittering gold for sand, silver-sparkled blue for ice on blue, and rich red for a cape. The teacher doesn't say anything- but rolls her eyes at the colours.

When she's finished her blanket, Sophie goes back to her own project- Easter Eggs. They've gotten more than enough flammable wool Christmas decorations by now- and it's time for Sophie to learn to make an egg of her own, rather than a flat oval.

She's going to leave off the legs though. That would be awkward to explain- and impossible to do. Maybe next year.


	3. A Box of Memories

Jamie has a box underneath his bed. At the bottom of this box is a book. It's big and red, with a metal latch, and the word 'Evidence' scrawled in big white letters across the bottom.

Once upon a time, this book contained a picture of tiny egg footprints, taken on an Easter Egg hunt, a sealed bag of cookie crumbs left behind on Christmas, a patch of 'Yeti' fur, and a picture of frost patterns, taken on a sleepover.

The book still contains the pictures- although the cookies and fur have since been replaced with photographs of those pieces of evidence. However, there's a great deal more to the book now- there's memories pinned within the pages.

A drawing, once pinned to the wall- of a boy on a sled in the air tossing snowballs at his friends on the ground- and a taller boy with a shepherd's staff hovering next to him, snow falling around them.

A carefully cleaned quarter- the one that was given in exchange for the tooth that was knocked out just after that sledding adventure- is taped to the page.

A picture of a page in another book- an entry on Big Foot, now autographed- 3 Phil.

A photograph of a Christmas tree, decked in red tinsel and whatever had seemed right.

A series of photographs, these ones of the neighbourhood children, all warmly wrapped up, posing next to ice sculptures- laughter visible in every frame.

Another photo, this one of a tiny fairy made out of ice- each feather etched out in exquisite detail.

A copy of a news report, made just over a hundred years ago- about the Guardian Angel who had protected a young girl from a storm.

And finally, a photograph of Sophie, on her first Easter Egg hunt- age three. Covered in mud with some sort of flower tangled in her hair, and beaming at the camera, a beautiful purple and lilac egg held between her two hands. Jamie, crouching down next to her, grins at the camera, shamelessly.

That is far from the end of the book- doubtlessly, Jamie will find reason to add more pictures and drawings to the well-thumbed pages, but there is more still to see within the box.

A home-made ornament that had sat on a Christmas tree- a plastic unicorn, covered in gold glitter.

A story made in English class, a bright red A on the front cover- entitled the Snow Bunny.

And finally, there is a large photograph, too large to fit in the book, of Jamie wearing brown chinos and a blue hoodie, with talcum powder in his hair, and a metal rod in hand. Sophie leans against him, arms around his waist, wearing her fairy wings and looking a bit like she'd gotten dressed in the dark, and they both smile at the camera.

There's a lot of memories in that box- and in the years to come, there will be many more.


End file.
